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Updated: June 25, 2025
On Saturday evening October 10, 1896, the Right Hon. and Most Rev. Edward White Benson, D.D., Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of all England, arrived at Hawarden with Mrs. Benson on a visit to his old friend Mr. Gladstone. Sunday morning Dr. Benson went with the Gladstone family to Hawarden Church and occupied the Gladstone pew. After the service had commenced a commotion was observed.
In earlier life, Sir Stephen and his two brothers-in-law, Mr. Gladstone and Lord Lyttelton, formed an unfortunately favorable estimate of certain mines, into which much of the fortune of Sir Stephen and his sisters went, and from which it never came out again. There was one other brother, the late rector of Hawarden. He died about a year ago, and Mr.
Gladstone was the dominating politician of the day, and excited more adoration and hatred than any one. After my first visit to Hawarden, he sent me the following poem, which he had written the night before I left: MARGOT When Parliament ceases and comes the recess, And we seek in the country rest after distress, As a rule upon visitors place an embargo, But make an exception in favour of Margot.
George Wyndham, the Irish Secretary. Mr. Wyndham commanded the Cheshire yeomanry, after Mr. Gladstone had gone into retirement, and had his regiment under canvas for training at the Park at Hawarden. Being an old House of Commons friend, he went several times to dine. On one of these occasions he was alone with Mr. Gladstone after dinner.
The whole morning whether at home or on a visit was devoted to business. Luncheon at Hawarden was without formality. "Lunch was on the hob," for several hours, to be partaken of when it suited the convenience of the various members of the family. Tea, of which Mr.
All anxieties on this subject were put an end to by orders being issued to make ready for the ceremony, and the Hawarden folks lost no time in making due preparations accordingly. The church was elegantly and profusely decorated with laurels, while extremely handsome garlands, composed of the finest flowers, were suspended from the venerable roof.
Within the week the 'Moor, 'Yorkshire, 'Aurania, 'Hawarden Castle, 'Gascon, 'Armenian, 'Oriental, and a fleet of others had passed for Durban with 15,000 men. Once again the command of the sea had saved the Empire. But, now that it was too late, the Boers suddenly took the initiative, and in dramatic fashion.
Probably the most effective speech of modern times was the short address of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg; but this was simply the expression of the gathered forces of his whole political life. In the month of July, 1837, Mr. Gladstone was married to Miss Catherine Glyn, daughter of Sir Stephen Richard Glyn, of Hawarden Castle, in Flintshire, Wales, a marriage which proved eminently happy.
I walked around and read the inscriptions on the walls, and all the time the young girl played and the old gentleman beat time, and neither noticed my presence. One brass tablet I saw was to a woman "who for long years was a faithful servant at Hawarden Castle erected in gratitude by W.E.G." Near this was a memorial to W.H. Gladstone, son of the Premier, who died in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-one.
The union of Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone has been blessed by eight children, all of whom save two still survive. There were four sons, the eldest, William Henry, was a member of the Legislature, and the second, the Rev. Stephen Edward Gladstone, is rector of Hawarden. The third son is named Henry Neville and the fourth Herbert John Gladstone.
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